


Destined To Be

by supernatural1709



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Fluff, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:42:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24623386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supernatural1709/pseuds/supernatural1709
Summary: In a world where your soulmate's name is branded on your wrist the moment you turn 20. Dean always knew his soulmate was Sammy, who else could it be?But Dean would do anything to give his Sammy a chance, a chance to escape this life of hunting. And if his own heart broke in the process, it was one sacrifice he was willing to make.But he forgot one thing, matches are made in heaven, and some people are destined to be together.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 5
Kudos: 159





	Destined To Be

**Author's Note:**

> I recently started rewatching SPN. So, keeping in line with that, I decided that all the old stories of mine deserve to be revisited as well.
> 
> So, here you go! The first story I ever wrote. Its been 4 years I think, and it is still one of my personal favorites.
> 
> Hope you like it!

Dean was newly twenty when Sam's name first appeared on his wrist. Waking up in the middle of the night due to a searing pain in his wrist, a sure shot sign that his soulmate's name was coming, his heart nearly stopped when he saw "Sam Winchester" printed there.

The elegant, cursive handwriting so familiar to him. The same handwriting which added stupid little notes to his research, added items to his gorcery list in the hopes he will eat healthy, a script he knew better than his own.

Soulmate. Sam was his soulmate. His little brother, the person he had swore to protect from all harm, his Sammy. 

He knew he should be happy, that he won't have to give up Sam, share him with someone else, won't have to be away from him ever. But he wasn't.

It wasn't the people he was worried about. God, no. Sibling bonds, though rare, were widely accepted. The bond was a direct command from God, that this was your person. No one could fight what God had written for them. 

It wasn't even the fact that he wasn't attracted to his little brother, because he was, he very much was. It was all kinds of wrong, and he was ashamed of himself. Being this desperately, pathetically, irrevocably in love with his little brother, but Dean couldn't help it. Couldn't stop loving Sammy anymore than he could stop breathing.

No, the real problem was that he knew that Sam hated the lifestyle, the constant hiding, the running away, the squatting in abandoned houses and cheap motels. And, if you ask him, Sam was way better than this. He deserved to have all his dreams fulfilled. And if that included a white picket fence, a beautiful blonde wife, 2.5 children and a dog, then Dean won't stand in between his brother and that dream.

Because if Dean knew one thing, it was that Sam would stay. If he figured out the truth, he would stay. And Dean couldn't do that to his little Sammy. Couldn't bind him to a life he so clearly did not want. Dean couldn't and wouldn't squash the potential he knew his brother had, to do something good, to make a difference. And there was always a chance, that Sam would get some other name of his wrist.

It wasn't unheard of, after all. And if it condemned Dean to a lonely life, well then he knew he would be happy just watching Sam be happy.

So, he made a promise to himself. He wouldn't say a word. Wouldn't tell anyone the truth, not Sam, not John, not even Bobby. He would keep quiet and let Sam decide the course his life should take, instead of piling his own desires on his little brother. And if one day, when Sam got his own mark, he wanted to make this work, well then Dean wasn't going anywhere.

Dean knew his decision to keep this information filed away would cause him a shit ton of heartache but he also knew that for his brother, even for a single chance that his brother may have a shot at a normal life, Dean would happily take it all.

So, that night, lying in the motel bed with his brother happily tucked under his arm, oblivious to his feelings, Dean took a decision, consequences be damned.

"Dean? Dean?"

Dean woke up, the next morning, with a groan. Sammy was chattering excitedly in his ear.

"Did you get it? What does it say? What's her name?"

"It doesn't matter, Sam." Dean said as he got out of bed and started walking towards the bathroom.

"Of course, it does. Its your soulmate, Dean!" Sam said, "The person you will love the most in this whole world."  
Sam said, "and who love you just as much in return."

"Sam, Sammy, stop. Like I said it doesn't matter. And anyways, the person I love the most? That is you, and will always remain you. No matter what happens. Okay?" Dean said, with a sigh.

"But Dean.." Sam whined, apparently not ready to drop the topic anytime soon, "..its your soulmate!"

"Sammy! Enough. The name, it, it was striked out. Okay? She's dead. Gone. I don't have a soulmate." Dean said and with that he slammed the bathroom door. The last thing he saw was Sam standing with his mouth open, not sure of what to say.

Sam's move to Stanford brought with it a whole new set of problems. The fight between Sam and John that night was one of their most explosive yet. Sam left. Taking his bag, and slamming the door behind him, Sam just left.

And Dean couldn't even blame him. He was just so damned proud of his little brother. The boy who grew up to be a goddamn genius, even in the midst of being plucked out of one school and dropped into another, all his life. 

Hell, Dean had been the first person Sam had told.

Dean would never forget that moment. How could he forget the pain (and fuck, it was so so painful) of feeling his hear t break, the pain of his very soul shattering. Because Sam was leaving him. He won't wake up to that dimpled smile every morning anymore, won't have Sammy waiting for him in whatever motel room they were renting when he returned from running errands, no more little brother to torment.

No more Sam.

But Dean had plastered a smile on his face, congratulated his little brother and urged him to follow his dreams. During the next few weeks, Sam had begged Dean to come with him, tried to guilt him into joining Sam, even threatened to never return, but Dean was one stubborn motherfucker.

He held on. For he knew, if he didn't let Sam go now, he never would. As Dean's eyes met with Sam's  
kaleidoscopic orbs one last time, he saw something in them. Something that unsettled him. Made him feel as if Sam knew. Knew what he meant to Dean, whose name it was on Dean's wrist, who was the only person who will ever live in Dean's heart.

But how could he? Dean had made it a point to keep his wrist hidden. To make Sam believe his name was striked out. Some nameless, faceless girl who died before they could even meet.

Dean knew he had to be strong, he was the one who decided his fate, who refused to tell Sam the truth, who declined his offer again and again. But seeing Sam walk away from the motel, from him, the rush of emotions he felt was more than he could handle.

Sliding down against the wall, he did something he hadn't done since he turned four.

Dean cried.

Sam sighed. His first two years at Stanford had been kind to him. He was healthy, had great friends and was doing splendidly in his classes. Yet he couldn't help but feel incomplete. Like some vital part of him was missing, cut away from him. He hated it here, hated the fucking stability of it, the normalness. He craved the  
uncertainties of hunting, the adrenaline rush, the danger. All those things he thought he wanted to leave behind, those things were the ones he wanted the most. And then there was Dean.

His mind wandered to his brother, as it often did. He hadn't talked to Dean for two years. Sure, when he had come to college, they had made grand plans of keeping in touch, calling, meeting up and what not.

But all of a sudden, nothing. Dean didn't pick up his phone, didn't answer his messages, nothing.

Compelete silence.

Refusing to be hurt and disheartened, Sam kept trying. Even now, two years later, he still tried calling Dean atleast once a month in hopes that maybe this time his older brother would pick up. Would tell him 'I love you'. Just one more time.

Try as he may, Sam was unable to forget the haunted look in the emerald eyes of his brother, the look of a man who was on the verge of losing everything.

That look had cemented one belief Sam had. That he was Dean's soulmate. For months after Dean had gotten his name, he had refused to even talk about it, declaring it was striked out, making it seem like no big deal. But Sam hadn't believed it.

Hadn't believed that there had ever been another person in this whole damn world who loved his Dean more than him. So, he had persevered and gotten a glimpse at the name. He hadn't seen much, just made out the name started with 'S' and that it definitely wasn't striked out.

He was brought out of his musings by the clock striking 12. It was officially 2nd May, his 20th birthday. The day he would get his confirmation, that Dean was his (because no one else loved Dean like he did, no one knew Dean like he did. His Dean was his. Always). And then he could return to his brother and start their forever. Okay, maybe first he will make Dean grovel a bit for making a decision that wasn't only his to make. But still.

A burning sensation told him that the name was there.  
Raising his hand to see, he let out a small whoop of joy.

There across his wrist, in the untidy scrawl which he knew like the back of his hand was one name.

'Dean Winchester'.

Sam smirked and began packing his stuff.

It was time to bid Stanford goodbye. This life wasn't for him.

A week later, Sam found himself standing in front of Bobby's house. Even after repeated attempts, both Dean and John had continued ignoring him. Pushing down on his hurt at them for not even bothering to wish him on his birthday, he knew that his brother atleast had a very good reason for doing so.

Sam knew Dean, he knew how his older brother's mind worked. He knew that Dean thought he wasn't good enough. That he didn't deserve Sam. But Sam was determined to prove him wrong, even if he had to literally knock some sense into that head.

Taking a deep breath, Sam knocked on the door.

But when the door open, it was as if all the breath was knocked out of Sam. Cause he found himself staring at familiar green eyes, eyes which were filled with pain and regret the last time he saw them, but which were now shining with a mixture of hope and relief. Sam found himself staring at Dean.

"Sammy? You came.." Dean said as he started towards Sam, his arms outstretched. And that was the only thing Sam heard before his fist collided with Dean's face.

"What gave you the right?" Sam finally asked Dean.

They were sitting in the spare bedroom at Bobby's. Sam had been informed that both Bobby and John had gone for a hunt down south and won't be back for a few days. Dean had stayed, had been forced to stay. Because his behaviour had turned increasingly erratic in the past few weeks. Finally fed up, John had dropped Dean off, and told him to stay put. 

At the moment, Sam was sitting as far away from his brother (his soulmate!) as he could manage. Dean was nursing quite the spectacular bruise on his face, and Sam couldn't help but feel proud.

"What gave you the right?" Sam repeated, louder this time "to decide what was best for us? What was best for me?"

"Sammy..I.."

"No, don't you dare Sammy me. You know how many nights I went to sleep thinking about what a failure I was as a little brother, that my older brother couldn't even tell me who his soulmate was? Because I knew Dean, I knew the name wasn't striked out. Or how I felt so damn shitty when I realised that the name was mine, how I couldn't fathom the reason you won't want me? Or how many nights I spent crying in my dorm room, all alone cause I was missing the other piece of my soul, who won't even be bothered to pick up the goddamn phone." Sam burst, the entire hurt and regret and remorse which he had kept bottled up for the past two years, coming up.

"Shit Sam! I just wanted to give you a chance.." Dean said.

"A chance to leave you? Guess what? I did and I couldn't live without you. Every moment was like hell. I longed for your voice, to be held by you one last time, to see your eyes, anything."

"Sammy, you really think I didn't want all those things? To hold you, to protect, to cherish you. I wanted it. But I didn't, couldn't keep you with me if you didn't want to." Dean said, in a soft voice. Hearing his brother sound so small, so vulnerable, made Sam feel like hugging him and never letting go.

"Damn it Dean. I would have stayed. If you had said. I would happily have done it."

"I know. And then what if you regretted the choice? Started hating your life? Started hating me? I couldn't have lived with myself, Sammy. Couldn't have taken it." Dean said, finally looking up to meet Sam's eyes.

And it was the sheer, unadulterated pain in those emerald orbs that finally told Sam the truth. That Sam wasn't the only one hurting. Dean was too. And maybe Dean made a bad choice, but he only did what he thought was correct. He was giving Sam a chance. A chance to see the world, to live a life outside hunting.

"Dean. I can't live without you. Every piece of me is in love with every piece of you. Its your name stamped on my wrist. Your name. You are mine just as I am yours. It's us. Us against the world." Sam said gently, as he went to kneel in front of his older brother. "So no more lies or you trying to protect me. Talk to me, Dean please."

Dean nodded, his eyes eager.

"Can I kiss you?" Dean asked, in a small voice. "Like I know its really early, and we haven't solved everything. We still don't know what we will do..and.."

"De? You are rambling, jerk."

"Bitch." Dean said with a smile, as he finally closed the distance between them.

Sam had heard people say that when they kissed their soulmate it was like fireworks, like everything was right in your life, like it was heaven and hell at the same time. Kissing Dean was none of these things.

Kissing Dean was like coming home after a long day at work, it was like the smell of spring, like the feel of the pages of a new book. It was everything Sam ever wanted. It was a drug and Sam was addicted.

As they pulled apart, because unfortunately they still needed to breathe, Sam found himself staring into his brother's, his soulmate's, his Dean's eyes.

"Welcome home Sammy." Dean said with a small grin, his green eyes sparkling with joy and hopefulness.

This time it was Sam who initiated the kiss.

Sure, they still had a shit ton of problems. Dealing with John, learning how to hunt again, and what not. But for now, sitting here with his brother in his lap (not that Sam had any idea how they ended up in that position) he was content.

He had everything he had ever wanted.

He had Dean.


End file.
